


I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses

by palbuddypoe



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Trans Jack Kelly, Trans Male Character, Trans Medda Larkin, it's mainly jackcrutchie but the ot4 is there too, theres also a mention of sprace but not enough to tag it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-11-16 13:59:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11254386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palbuddypoe/pseuds/palbuddypoe
Summary: Jack doesn't know why he's a leader, and he doesn't know how to be.





	I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses

**Author's Note:**

> warnings for implied child abuse and mentions of jack's birth name/dysphoria

Jack Kelly is nine years old the last time he sees his father. He comes home from work to an empty apartment, and wakes up to it just as empty. He gets back again that evening, and still no one is around, and Jack knows the man is either in hell or in prison. It's also the day he takes a pair of scissors and chops off all his hair. It's crude; too long in some places, too short in others. The last time he tried, he was five, and all he cut was a few inches on the left side before his father stormed in and yanked the scissors from his hand, so it doesn’t matter.

Jack is never going back to his factory job. He’ll find something new, and for that, he needs new clothes, and for that he needs money. He knows no salary he can make can pay rent at any apartment, no matter how run down, so he scrapes up eleven dollars and seventy four cents, rushes to the nearest store, buys the cheapest possible shirt, pants, and shoes, and hurries home to change. He pulls on his dad's hat, and admires his dingy reflection with a big gap-toothed smile. With only the clothes on his back, the hat, a bag, and what's left of his money, he abandons the apartment. 

He heads straight for Newsies Square, with a plan to start selling papers in the morning. He knows he can just show up and start selling, and more importantly, leave anytime he isn't safe. It’s beginning to get dark when he arrives, and he approaches a boy who seems only a bit older than him. The boy walks with him to the lodging house, and Jack is relieved to find he has enough money on him to stay there. He waves to a few boys, introducing himself as Jack for the first time in his life, and no one questions it. No gritting his teeth to tell people his name is Frances (and what kind of name is that anyway? Certainly not a flattering one, not for anyone). He can’t sleep that night - he’s too full of energy, hiding his smile behind his pillow.

***

The boys are surprisingly friendly and welcoming, and he’s young enough that they’re fiercely protective. Jack notices that some of them kiss each other, which he knows is important to him, but he can’t say why. They see his tears when he comes back from selling one day (those boys didn’t know how much that word stung, they couldn’t have, but it doesn’t matter), and the boys have black eyes the next morning. He’s safe, and he’s finally getting used to the feeling.

He’s twelve when he first wraps cloth around his chest. He doesn’t need to yet, but he’s getting scared. He’s the first to jump into any conversation about girls, affirming to himself as much as the others that he likes them. He does, and that’s good, it makes him feel safe, but he knows he likes boys too, and it eats at the back of his mind, telling him that contradicts everything he knows about himself. It’s easier to ignore that.

It’s the year he first gets sent to the Refuge. Twelve years old, shivering on the street, and he’s shoved into a bunk with three other kids. He comes home crying, and the others comfort him, tell him they’ve all been there. Jack starts sleeping on the rooftop of the lodging house then, where he’ll always be out of sight.

***

At fourteen, he meets a boy in Brooklyn. He’s wandered off out of boredom, he shouldn’t be outside of Manhattan, but no one seems to care. Certainly not this boy, and he’s the only one whose opinion matters. He’s got freckles that cover his entire body, he’s shorter than Jack, but a year older, and he’s always taking deep breaths, like he’s struggling to get air. “Spot,” he introduces himself with a cocky smirk and a handshake, and Jack is drawn to him. They get along easily, they feel like they understand each other, they meet in Brooklyn every evening after selling hours. There’s talking and walking and blushing and brushing hands. And there’s laughter and sighs of relief when they see the cloth around each other’s chests because they’d had a feeling and were so goddamn scared of getting found out. And it comforts Jack a little, knowing that he can have this with a boy. Knowing that this boy is a boy, too.

And then another boy comes along from Manhattan and Spot likes him better, and as much as they were friends, it was more therapy than anything, the chance to feel secure in being male because he said he only liked men and he liked Jack and Jack liked him. But he doesn’t need it anymore, so now Racetrack Higgins disappears every night instead of Jack.

***

When Jack is fifteen, a thirteen year old newsie appears. Jack is the first to see him, and he escorts the boy to the lodge, helping him up the stairs with his makeshift crutch. One boy yells “hey, Crutchie!” and Jack apologizes, says they'll call him something else, but the boy says he doesn't mind.The boy, Crutchie, has freckles like the stars, and a smile like the sun, and he never leaves Jack’s side. Jack thinks he’s the one not letting Crutchie out of his sight.

It’s not Jack’s fault when he gets locked up. Not every time. And yet again and again, he ends up in the Refuge, whether for being caught stealing or just being spotted on the street. And it always feels like his fault, for being caught, because what are the others going to do without him? What’s Crutchie going to do without him?

Jack saves one newspaper clipping in his life, the one about the boy escaping jail on the back of Roosevelt's carriage. He keeps it in his pocket.

***

Crutchie kisses Jack on the rooftop. They’re sitting against the ledge, not talking, holding hands and looking at the sky, and Crutchie leans over and kisses Jack’s cheek. He apologizes, and Jack says not to.  
“It’s just,” he says, “you know I’m not a girl, right?”  
And Crutchie says of course he knows that, and he doesn’t even like girls, and Jack pulls him in and kisses his lips.

***

By the time he’s seventeen, Jack’s been working as a newsie longer than most of the boys. He’s the undisputed leader, and he’s made a name for himself (he knows Spot has a reputation of his own now, and Jack always feels a little pride at that). So when the price hike rolls around, everyone looks to Jack. And Jack looks to the new kid. Davey’s smart. He’s got the brains where Jack doesn’t. Jack’s never felt qualified for the pedestal the others put him on, but maybe he can finally earn it.

And then Crutchie gets locked up, and it all goes to hell. It’s his fault. Crutchie’s never been locked up before; Jack’s always been able to help him, even when that means taking the fall in his place. And he should’ve done that now, should’ve turned himself in on the spot and let all of this end, because if the boys aren’t safe, if Crutchie isn’t safe, then what’s the point? But he didn’t. He’s not a hero, and he doesn’t deserve to be admired, and he’s supposed to be in charge but he’s never had less control in his life.

***

 

Jack’s always loved Medda’s theater. It was a real refuge, where he didn’t have to be Frances, didn’t have to be The Famous Jack Kelly, didn’t even have to be happy. He’d told Medda when he was ten, about how he hadn’t always been a boy and he didn’t want to lie to her, and Medda had hugged him and told him that was the reason she loved the theatre: it was the only place she didn’t have to lie. Jack had never had a mother, but he had Medda, and that was better.

Medda’s known Jack long enough to know whether he really needs to be alone or whether he’s just trying to shut people out, and she knows he’s usually just trying to shut people out. When he shows up to paint in the middle of the strike, she gives him his space for a while, but soon starts asking about how Crutchie has been, and whether Jack’s seen that morning’s paper, and why hasn’t he told her anything about that new boy Davey she saw him with?

Jack can’t lie to Medda, it’s the reason he doesn’t always talk, so it’s not long before the dam breaks and he finds himself baring his soul to her. The things he’s been holding in his chest begin to spill over, how he doesn't deserve to be admired, how he let down everyone who needed him, how everyone expects him to know what to do, to bring down The World, and to do it by himself, but he can’t. He needs people to help him; he needs Davey and Katherine and Crutchie and all the newsies, because even though they think they’re followers, Jack would be lost without them, but he’s let them down and abandoned them and it’s too late to just go back.

But Davey comes back for him. Davey and Katherine want him around. He doesn’t quite understand why but they need him, and if that’s what can get them through the fight, if that’s what can get Crutchie back, he can be there. They’re both geniuses, and they’ve come to mean so much to him in so little time, and he’s happy to have them take the lead from behind the scenes, happy to have a support system.

***

They don’t quite win, but they make it out of the strike with a better deal than they went in with, and that’s more than Jack ever expected. Crutchie’s alive, and that’s more important than any of it. But it’s still the same life. It’s still selling papers every day and hoping not to starve. And he doesn’t know if the victory was enough, so he starts to say his goodbyes, sending Crutchie a look that says the invitation is still open, if you’ll have me. He’s not ready for them to stop him, not ready for them to plead with him to stay. Things have changed, they tell him, because there’s something more now. 

“New York’s got us,” Crutchie says, taking Jack’s hand, and Jack knows he understands. He understands and he must feel it too, this affection for Katherine and Davey that isn’t exactly the same as what he and Crutchie have, but maybe it could be, but that’s not even what matters right now, because what matters is that these three are the people Jack lives for, and they’re a part of New York. Davey holds out a hand, and Jack takes it, and Katherine joins hands with Crutchie and Davey. Crutchie smiles at Jack, “and we’re family.”


End file.
